I am whoever I say I am.

The name is Mindy -- or Min-D as some friends like to say, or even MSkut (hybrid of my first and last name) -- and I'm a newspaper reporter just outside Charlotte, NC. I started this blog in April 2008 as a means of expanding my horizons and moving away from the "woe is me, here's what is happening in my life" blogging. Instead, I tried out the "hey, look how witty I can be" and the "this is what I have to say about 'insert topic here'" kind, and so far, it's worked pretty well. But there's much ground still to cover!

Yours truly...!!

Delve into the past.

Delve into the past.

Grace in Small Things: 38/365

Feb. 1, 2010
1. Didn't get to go to D.C. (stupid snow!), but had a FABULOUS weekend anyway.
2. Played in the snow - with my dog - for the first time in at least 10 years.
3. Went shopping yesterday!
4. Unburied my car from the inches of snow and ice this morning.
5. Leftover Olive Garden tonight. Yummmmm.

Feel free to Email me.

It was nearly two weeks ago, but I still remember that evening vividly.

I was curled up on the couch, empty bowl in hand that once contained some delicious chicken and rice. I set the bowl on my coffee table and took another swig of my Coca-Cola. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it — the green box, taunting me as it scarcely peeked out of my purse. I tried to look away, attempting to forget the momentary vision and the saliva that was already forming in my mouth. But it was too late.

Half an hour later, all that remained was the empty foil, the remnants of a formerly filled sleeve of Thin Mint cookies. My shame was heavy, my stomach full. What began as a meager hope to help a coworker’s daughter ended with nearly 700 calories I simply did not need. And another sleeve awaited…

While other organizations are out there, regularly discussing the hazards of both adult and childhood obesity, Girl Scouts of America send demure, innocent young girls to our doorsteps, peddling cookie-deliciousness containing more calories than one should likely consume in a typical day. And at $3.50 per box, we fall for their schemes, thinking of little more than the mouth-watering goodness that awaits. Sure, we may pretend that we’re merely making a purchase to aid some child attain a merit badge that will undoubtedly end up in a drawer seven years from now, collecting dust. But we’re all in it for one thing: The delectable Caramel deLites (aka Samoas), the scrumptious Peanut Butter Patties (aka Tagalongs) and the chocolatey goodness known as Thin Mints, my true weakness.

Despite any hopes we carried into the new year of fitting into our jeans that became a bit-too-tight over the holiday season, the Girl Scouts strip us of our desires, reminding us that their season of choice – Cookie Season – lies just around the corner. And as February arrives and we finally pull those size 4 jeans out of the closet, watching them glide easily over our thighs, butt and waist, those girls in brown and green appear to remind us that our bodies are meant for a size 6 forevermore.

I entered that evening with a skewed thought process – “If I just eat them all now, they won’t taunt me any longer. I must make the entire sleeve of cookies disappear.” – but I carry it no more. Those little ladies won’t fool me. I know the damage their cookies can cause and damn it, I refuse to be a victim ever again!

Expensive but delicious. Impossible to eat only a few – serving size = 1/2 box. Caloric intake, don’t even ask, the gym can’t even remedy that.

Oh, and thin mints are best frozen. Fact.

But why? Why in this day and age where obesity is prevalent would we station little girls at the bank, the grocery, the fucking Pep Boys auto parts shop… places you can’t avoid their puppy sad eyes when you don’t buy 16 boxes of tasty lemon things.

When I was in Boy Scouts, our troop refused to sell the popcorn. Instead for our big fundraiser we would sell wreaths and real garland around xmas. The leaders would drive up to the UP and get them at wholesale price and we’d sell them at their recommended price. We stood out in public places too, I admit. But we were a lot older. A lot older. Fundraisers for the Cub Scouts was strictly up to the parents.

Next time, I’ll have to bring them to work – my other work, ’cause everyone at the news office bought some. That way I maybe eat a couple, but the box will be devoured by others instead of me, alone, while watching Grey’s Anatomy.

My goodness, I have to thank my lucky stars that there are no girl scout cookies sold here, not even in international stores. But my aunt often brought it home for me and I usually really PIG OUT. Thin mints are also my weakness.